


Duty Calls

by jenorama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:02:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7404580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenorama/pseuds/jenorama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron gets an Auror summons at a very inconvenient time.  Originally published 12 years ago, this is part of my Reconnecting Potterverse and is AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty Calls

Duty Calls

by Jenorama

Ron closed his eyes and swallowed as he felt Hermione's small hands move up his stomach to his chest, lightly tweaking his nipples. He felt her warm mouth come down on his in a kiss that grew progressively harder and he couldn't help the groan that came from deep in his throat. Her body was pressed up against as much of his as it could be and the feeling of her silky skin was almost too much for him to bear. He languidly opened his eyes and looked at her, a slow smile spreading across his face at the sight of her flushed skin and glittering eyes.

Moving gently, he turned her onto her back and settled himself on top of her, feeling her lithe legs wrap around his waist. Their lips met in another gentle kiss and Ron began to push into her welcoming warmth. Without warning, he felt a band of fire around his upper left arm and he froze. “Son of a bitch!”

Hermione's eyes snapped open and she looked up at him in confusion as he leapt off of her and started scrambling around for his clothes. “Ron?”

“I'm sorry Hermione, I've got to go.” Not bothering with boxers, he pulled on his black uniform trousers and quickly fastened them, cinching the belt tightly. He grabbed his black tee shirt and pulled it roughly over his head, cursing the whole time. Socks and boots followed, his knife quickly shoved home and out of Hermione's sight. He stood up and growled as the burning began to intensify. “I'm on my way Goddammit! Hold your fucking horses!” he yelled in frustration at the ceiling.

Ron looked at Hermione on his bed. She was sitting up, the sheet pulled up to her chin and she looked very small and frightened. “Hey, it's okay. I'll be back before you know it.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and kissed her gently. “We'll finish this later, all right?” She nodded at him, her eyes still wide. “Look, go in the lounge and relax, okay? There’s—fuck!” The burning in his tattoo jumped another notch and he stepped back from her and took out his wand. “I'm really sorry about this!” His last sight of her was not very reassuring, but there was nothing he could do about it. Duty was calling with a vengeance.

He concentrated for a moment and Disapparated with hardly a sound, reappearing in Wales in seconds, the burning in his skin stopping immediately. Only slightly disoriented, Ron quickly looked around and saw Harry standing a few feet away. “What took you so long?” he asked with a frown when Ron joined him.

“Bugger that mate, you're in trouble. Hermione's not too happy with you right now.” He fixed his best friend with a glare as Harry shook in silent laughter. “Get hold of yourself you arsehole.” Ron took in his surroundings, scanning the dark alleyway he and Harry were currently standing in. It looked like it was deserted except for them, the shops lining it having long since closed for the night. The only light was from a Muggle street lamp at the far end and as he watched, the light went out with a small pop.

“It'll come back on in a minute. It seems to go out long enough for your eyes to adjust to the dark and then comes back on,” Harry said with an irritated snort.

“Who is it tonight?”

“Macnair.”

“Fuck me,” Ron breathed quietly, feeling a jolt go through him. “Finally found him, yeah?”

Harry nodded silently, eyes still on the end of the alleyway. “Yeah. Had a tip from an old Ministry colleague that spotted him out on market day. Confirmed it two hours ago.”

“Two hours? Bloody hell Harry! Why didn't you call me then?” Two hours ago, he and Hermione had been sharing a quiet late dinner together and talking about their respective days. He certainly hadn't been in the middle of having sex with her!

“Calm down.” Harry cast a glance at Ron, clearly amused by his partner's irritation. “I didn't want to spook him. Make him run again. We've been chasing this bastard too long already.”

Ron let out an explosive breath and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Shit. Okay. What's the plan? Anyone else in on this?”

“Yeah. We're waiting for Kingsley. He should be along in a minute.”

“He have lead on this?” Harry nodded again. “Good,” Ron grunted. He very much valued the older Auror's experience and wisdom, knowing that Shacklebolt's quick thinking in dangerous situations was one of the reasons he was still able to stand in a dark alleyway with his best mate.

“There he is.” Ron watched as a tall, heavily-cloaked figure made its way silently up the alley toward them. The figure threw back his hood and the re-illuminated street lamp shone on Kingsley's bald head and glinted on the gold hoop he still wore in one ear.

He nodded at them both and looked them up and down. “Don't you two ever wear anything else?” Kingsley asked them in his deep voice without preamble.

“Could say the same about you. What's the plan?” Harry retorted.

“Macnair's holed up in a house on the edge of town. He's got anti-Apparition wards up and a few traps.”

“We getting a squad?” Ron asked quickly. He hated dealing with magical traps.

“No. With his history of running, we can't afford it. We need to take him down tonight. There's a small wood behind the house where he's got a motorbike and false Muggle documents stashed. I couldn't disable it earlier without alerting him, so we cannot allow him to reach it.” Harry and Ron nodded and they both started bouncing on the balls of their feet and stretching a bit, getting ready for action.

“I'll go in through the front, you two through the back.” Kingsley drew a quick sketch in the air, the lines glowing green. “The place is two floors.” He sketched out rough room shapes from what he had gathered on an earlier scout of the place and outlined their plan. Kingsley would go in through the front door and Harry and Ron would come in the back in case Macnair spotted them early and tried to do a runner. Harry and Kingsley would proceed up the stairs and ideally take him in his sleep while Ron guarded the stairs. Plan defined, Kingsley nodded and erased the glowing sketch with a wave of his wand. “Let's go.” Ron blinked and saw the afterimage in the darkness.

Ron followed Harry and Kingsley down the alleyway at a fast jog, uncomfortably aware of his lack of pants under his trousers. He'd done it before, but he vastly preferred the comfort of boxers to going commando. Like silent wraiths, the three men ran through the small village, quickly reaching the small cottage that housed their most elusive quarry. The summer night was still warm and Ron was sweating profusely from the run. He glanced and Shacklebolt and saw that the same was not true of the older Auror and he shook his head. He'd never seen Kingsley break a sweat, even during workouts.

They quickly circled around the dark house, silently casting trap detection spells and marking them with small dots of greenish light. Ron much preferred going into a place with traps after the Magical Trap Detection and Disarmament Squad had done their job. He seemed to manage to stumble into a marked trap a bit too often for his liking and he wanted to make especially sure he didn't do that on this little adventure.

The three men split up and counted to ten, blasting the doors with Reductor curses at the same time, Ron wincing at the noise of the splintering wood. Wands out, they moved quickly through the ground floor of the house, alert and listening for any sounds from above. Finding it empty, they joined Kingsley at the foot of the stairs.

Silently, Harry and Kingsley ascended the stairs and Ron waited tensely at the bottom, his eyes sweeping the moonlit room. He had a niggling feeling that something wasn't quite right with this. They'd gotten in very easily and had been forced to make a little noise. In their past dealings with Macnair, they'd paid dearly for any slip ups on their part when he always seemed to get away. He heard a crash in the kitchen and he sprinted in that direction, leaping over a low table. “Cloak! He's got a cloak!” he bellowed as he ran.

Reaching the doorway to the kitchen, Ron pointed his wand toward the back door hanging loosely on its hinges and roared, “Accio invisibility cloak!” not completely sure it would work. He was relived to see a silvery cloak come flying toward him and he saw Macnair was about halfway to the wood with the hidden motorbike. He took off after him, hearing Harry and Kingsley pounding down the stairs.

Running at top speed, Ron bellowed out “Impedimenta!” and cursed when he saw the squat man dodge the spell handily. Fat as the bastard had gotten, he could still move when he needed to. Lungs burning, he stretched out his long legs as much as he could and gained on the fleeing Death Eater. Just as he reached the edge of the wood, Ron launched himself at him in a flying tackle, catching his legs and driving him to the ground.

They rolled and tussled on the soft earth, Ron trying to gain the upper hand on Macnair, who quickly proved himself a dirty fighter in close quarters. The older man fought with abandon, going for all the places that would hurt the most and even pulling on Ron's hair and the air was filled with grunts and curses. Using his heavier body to his advantage, Macnair drove Ron into the ground on his back and punched him hard in the gut, driving the breath from his lungs.

Quickly recovering, Ron rolled to his feet and saw Macnair frantically looking for his wand and he saw it lying a few feet way. “Accio wand!” He caught it easily and snapped it in half, earning a scream of rage from his opponent.

“You sodding arsehole! You'll pay for that!” Ron planted his feet and sent a Stupefying charm as Macnair ran at him. Incredibly, he managed to dodge it and crashed into Ron with his solid shoulder, sending him back to the ground and his wand flying out of his hand. There ensued a short, vicious fight and Ron caught a fist to the side of his head that made his vision go dark for a moment. Shaking his head, Ron fought back and quickly gained the advantage, driving his fist into Macnair's face with a satisfying crunch, breaking his nose. He felt a strong hand close on his shoulder and pull him away and saw Macnair go limp, finally immobilized by a Stupefy.

Breathing hard, Ron looked up at Harry and Kingsley from the ground. “What the fuck took you two so long?” He gently probed his face and hissed at his split lip.

Harry had the good grace to look sheepish as he magically bound the Death Eater’s inert form. “Got caught in a trap. Anti-gravity mist.”

“Jesus Christ! And I supposed you stopped to help him, yeah?” Ron sat up and looked accusingly at Kingsley.

Shacklebolt crossed his arms and fixed Ron with a cool look. “You're capable of taking care of yourself.”

“Fuck. Where the hell's my wand?” Harry handed it to him and he saw he had the broken pieces of Macnair's in his hands. Ron got up and stood unsteadily for a moment, grabbing out to hold onto Harry's shoulder. He looked at the unconscious form of the fugitive and smiled grimly. “We got the bastard.”

“Yeah Ron. His running days are over.” They watched as Kingsley turned a small tree branch into a Portkey and disappeared with their quarry. Harry and Ron walked away from the cottage until they were far outside of the anti-apparition wards. “You okay to Apparate?”

Ron nodded, running his hand over his ribs. They felt sore, but he didn't think that any of them were broken or cracked. “Yeah, I'll be okay” He concentrated and Apparated directly to his cubicle next to Harry's and began the paperwork for Macnair's arrest. He looked up at a knock against his cubicle wall and saw Harry standing there, green eyes bloodshot. “You look like shit, mate. Go home.” Ron said.

Harry grimaced and shook his head. “I could say the same to you. In fact, you look worse. You go home to Hermione like that and she'll throw you out. Get a shower first then get home. It's half two in the morning. See Quincy before you leave, too.”

Ron sighed and looked at the mountain of paperwork in front of him, thinking of Hermione at home all alone and worried sick about him. “You're right. Let me just finish up this preliminary report.” Working quickly, Ron completed the report and banished it to the head of the department's mailbox across the room.

They walked down the hall together and Harry spoke again. “Hey, sorry about getting caught in that bloody trap.”

Ron waved his hand in dismissal. “No worries. First time for everything, yeah?”

“Hm.” Harry snorted and followed Ron into the locker room. “Tell Hermione I'm sorry about the ah, interruption, okay?”

“You not coming home?”

Harry shook his head. “Nah. I want to give you two some time to yourselves.”

“Got someplace to stay?” Ron pulled of his shirt and wrinkled his nose at the cascade of dirt that came out of his hair when he shook his head.

Harry nodded and took off his own tee shirt and began unlacing his boots. “I hope Hermione isn't too mad at me. I know you two haven't been...together very long and this is probably the first time you've been called since she came back?” Ron nodded and Harry raised his eyebrows when he removed his trousers, revealing the lack of undergarments. “You were in a hurry. Sorry, mate.”

“Eh, well.” Ron grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips, following Harry into the showers. On the way, he caught sight of himself in a mirror and frowned. He had a black eye and large bruise blooming across one cheekbone in addition to the split lip. There was no way he could go home to Hermione like that. In the shower, he turned the water as hot as he could stand and stood under the spray, letting it beat into his tired and sore muscles. He washed quickly and felt much improved when he rejoined Harry at their lockers and donned the fresh clothing that was always waiting. He emptied the many pockets of his dirty trousers and transferred their contents to the ones he was now wearing and put his dirty clothes into the mesh bag with his name on it, tossing it into the hamper on their way out.

The partners walked out of the locker room and down to one of the mediwizards that were always on duty to get Ron fixed up. A few minutes later Ron's bruises were fading to yellow and the cut in his lip was a thin pink line. The mediwizard had detected a cracked rib and fixed that as well. “All right then. I'll see you tomorrow?” Harry prepared to Apparate, but Ron held up a hand to stop him.

“I need to talk to you for a minute. Come get a cuppa with me?” Harry nodded and they went down to the cafeteria. There was no food service at three in the morning, but there was always tea and coffee available for those that were invariably working late. They sat down at one of the tables and Harry waited for Ron to speak.

Ron took a deep breath and thought for a moment, deciding there was no good way to say what he had to say. He looked up at his best mate and partner and gave it to him straight. “I'm getting out.”

“What?”

“I'm getting out of the department. I'm done.” Ron looked back down at the at the scratched tabletop and took a sip of the scalding tea.

“Out of the department?” Harry's voice sounded strained. “Look mate, I'm sorry about the damn trap—”

“No, that isn't it. It's not anything you did.” He looked back up at Harry, willing him to understand. “I can't...I can't put Hermione through this, you know?” Comprehension and a little relief dawned in Harry's eyes and he sat back in his chair, fiddling with his mug. “I don't want her to worry when I get called, wondering if I'm going to come back or not. I lost her once mate, I don't want to make that mistake again, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled at his best friend. “You tell anyone else yet?”

“No, I wanted to tell you first.”

“Got any plans or are you going to retire and be a kept man?”

“While that idea does have its merits, I think I'm going to try my hand at law. Magical and Muggle.” Harry's eyebrows shot up toward his hairline and he gave a short laugh. “Don't take the mickey Harry, I'm too tired.”

“I wasn't going to take the mickey Ron. I was just surprised. What made you think of law?”

“Aren't you tired of seeing the guys we catch go free? I want to put as many of those arseholes as I can behind bars.”

“All right, Ron.” Harry nodded and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. When he'd envisioned this scenario in his head, it hadn't gone nearly this well. “How much longer are you sticking around?”

“You're stuck with me until Christmas and then I'll start Magical law in the winter term.”

“You've already applied?”

“Yeah. No news on acceptance yet though.”

“You've been thinking of this for a long time.”

“I have. Since…well…” he gestured down to his knee and Harry nodded. They sat quietly for a few more moments and then stood up at the same time. They embraced quickly in the manner of young men and Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder.

“Go home to your girl. I'll take care of these.” Harry picked up the two mugs and walked toward the dish return.

“Cheers, mate,” Ron called before Disapparating back to their flat. A split second after appearing at the flat, he felt Hermione hurl herself at him and he caught her in his arms, holding her tightly to him. She was sobbing into this shoulder and he could feel her body shaking. “Hey, it's okay. I'm back, safe and sound.” Crooning quietly to her, he carried her to his bedroom and sat on the bed.

“I was so worried,” she whispered when she was able to. “You were gone so long and I thought…”

“No, love.” He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead, feeling her relax in his arms.

Hermione finally stopped crying and looked up at him, tracing the fading bruise on his cheekbone and the thin pink reminder of his split lip. “What’re these? Was it dangerous tonight?”

“Ah, not too bad. We got Macnair and it got a little…physical.”

“Macnair? I didn't realize he was still at large.”

“Yeah. He's slippery that one. We've been on the brink of catching him three or four times before tonight. Getting him didn't actually take all that long, but the damn paperwork is a nightmare. And I was filthy, so I had to get cleaned up.”

Hermione took a deep breath, inhaling his clean smell and smiled shakily. “I appreciate it.” They sat quietly on the bed for a little while, arms wrapped around each other before Ron spoke again.

“I told Harry. That I'm getting out of the department.”

“Was he upset?”

“Well, I could tell he wasn't happy, but he didn't tell me off. I think he understands what I need to do.” Ron sighed deeply and kissed the top of Hermione's head. “It's not going to be easy for him or me, though. The department is like family almost and I hate the idea of stranding Harry with some horrible new partner or abandoning him to working alone.”

“You still worry about him. He'll be okay. He’s...Harry.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Where is he? I was expecting him home with you.”

“Dunno. Said he wanted to give us some time alone and he had a place to stay.”

Hermione drew back from him and sighed. “I knew I should have kept the hotel room. It's too difficult to have me here.”

“Hermione, that place costs a mint! And it's not difficult at all. I've stayed away for Harry loads of times. He probably went to the Burrow and is crashing in my old room. Mum loves it when he drops in for a stay. Gives her someone to fuss over.” He stood up and looked down at her on the bed. She had put on a gray tee shirt with “Arizona State University” across the front and a pair of soft flannel pajama bottoms. “I don't know about you, but I am going to get comfortable.”

He quickly took off his shirt and boots, combing his still-damp hair back into place with his fingers. Setting his wand within reach on his bedside table, his trousers and socks followed and he sighed happily as he stretched out on the bed clad only in his boxers, hands folded over his stomach. “You didn't have these on when you left.” Hermione reached out and slipped a finger under the waistband.

“No I didn't and I was bloody uncomfortable without them. In fact, don't let me forget to grab a pair tomorrow or I'll be up the creek when I have to change at work again.”

Hermione slipped another finger under the waistband, a fact that Ron did not miss in the slightest. “You have to go in tomorrow?”

“Well, later today, yeah. When there's a late call like this though, nobody expects us to be in much before noon. That's part of the reason why I stayed to file my report.” He glanced down at her hand. She had given up any pretense of being sly and had begun to pull down his boxers. He smiled and lifted his hips from the bed to help her along. “Why? Did you have something in mind to do tomorrow?”

Hermione stood up and pulled the tee shirt over her head and discarded it on the floor. Her pajama bottoms followed and Ron saw that she had apparently decided underwear was too much of a bother as well. She climbed up on the bed and kissed him deeply, her tongue moving quickly into his mouth and making contact with his own. She drew away with a smile and Ron could see the desire in her dark eyes. “I guess I'll have to carry out my plans sooner rather than later.”

“Oh yes? And what would those plans be?” he murmured, feeling his cock begin to harden at her words.

“To finish what we started earlier, provided,” she placed a soft kiss on his tattoo that made Ron shiver, “this thing doesn't go off again.”

“It bloody well better not or I'll cut the arm off myself,” Ron whispered, feeling Hermione's beautifully soft mouth move up his shoulder and across his collarbone. She licked at the hollow of his throat and his breath caught in his chest. She took his wrists and moved his hands to the top of his head and he laced his fingers together, watching her through heavy lidded eyes. This was the first time since they'd come together that first night in her hotel room that she had taken the lead and Ron found he was quite enjoying it.

She bent over him, her long hair tickling his chest and stomach as she kissed a trail down the line of soft red-gold hair that ran down the center of his chest down to the thatch between his legs. His breathing quickened and he felt goose bumps break out on his arms and his nipples tighten when she delicately laid her hand on his stiff member. Slowly she began to stroke him and Ron closed his eyes again, gasping when he felt the warm wetness of her mouth envelop him. She worked him with her mouth and hands and he felt himself approaching the edge. This was divine, but he wanted her to feel more, having been schooled by his older brother Bill to never be a selfish lover. “Hermione,” he whispered, opening his eyes again, watching her brown hair streaked gold by the desert sun moving over him.

She let go of him and moved back up to kiss him. He grasped her shoulders and moved to turn her over but she resisted. “No Ron. Let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

“But...” he protested feebly, cut off by another kiss. Somewhere in his muddled mind, he thanked the mediwizard for doing such a good job on his split lip.

“No. Relax, you had a hard night.” She smiled impishly and straddled him, grinding her hips and pressing her wetness on his lower abdomen, drawing a low groan from him. She lifted her body up and scooted farther down, positioning his cock at her entrance before slowly sheathing his length inside her. Hermione paused for a moment, closing her eyes and Ron could see the beatific smile on her face before she bent forward and began rocking slowly, making sure to rub her clitoris against him as he moved in and out.

Reaching out with his long arms, Ron stroked and pinched her nipples, gently at first and then harder as her moans increased. He was dying to take one into his mouth, but she pushed him back down when he tried to sit up and he contented himself with using his skilled fingers. Before long, her breathing came quicker and he felt her begin to shudder around him. He locked his eyes on hers and moved his hands down to her hips and held on, stilling her movements and he began to thrust his hips upward, increasing the tempo, feeling her muscles clamp around him. His own breathing loud in his ears, he felt a wave of sweat breaking out all over his body and he quickly switched positions, pounding into his lover from above, burying his face in her hair, saying her name over and over as he came.

Utterly spent and exhausted by the adrenaline highs and lows of the night, Ron rolled onto his side and gathered Hermione to him, holding her tightly and kissing away the tears that were falling from her eyes. “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She shook her head and it was a moment before she could answer. “It's nothing. I'm just...overwhelmed, I guess.” She gave him a watery smile and caressed his face, her thumb moving over the fading bruise on his cheek.

“Hey, I'm not going anywhere, okay?” He sat up and pulled up the sheet that had been pushed down earlier in the evening and covered their entwined bodies.

Hermione settled her small body more comfortably next to his and yawned, also feeling the effects of the unsettling night. “Is that a threat or a promise?” she asked sleepily.

“That's a promise you can take to Gringott's, baby.” Ron reached for his wand on the bedside table and turned off the lights, slipping off to his own darkness minutes later.


End file.
